


Is there more?

by Trash



Category: Bastille (Band)
Genre: Angst, Homophobia, M/M, idk how to tag this so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-10
Updated: 2018-04-10
Packaged: 2019-04-21 07:19:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14279832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trash/pseuds/Trash
Summary: “You all just attended mine and Kyle’s gay wedding,” he says. “Surprise.”





	Is there more?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [parsleylion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/parsleylion/gifts).



> For Parsleylion who wanted something based on this >> http://www.asofterworld.com/index.php?id=199

The mega church starts slowly. Slowly enough that the whole, picketing of events thing comes as a surprise to Kyle. Dan, though, doesn’t even look up from where he’s blowing steam off his tea and checking his phone at the kitchen table. 

“They’ve been putting flyers through the door all year, babes, how have you never heard of them?”

“Oh. I just stick them in the bin.”

Dan laughs. “No. You let them accumulate on the side and then I stick them in the bin. Which is how I’ve heard about them.”

“Not all churches are like this, though. I don’t understand. This isn’t America with the...what’s that church?”

“Westboro Baptist Church.”

“Yeah, that.”

Dan shrugs. “It’s...yeah, it’s shit. But from what I’ve read on their flyers they’re all waiting for the rapture so, you know. Jesus will come back and take them all away and leave us in fucking peace.”

***

They're lying in bed together, Dan just rolling off Kyle to collapse beside him breathless, the next time Kyle brings it up. Dan runs a hand through his hair and sighs, irritated. “You want to talk about Jesus, Kyle? After what we just did?”

“But that’s just it, though. That’s why we need to talk about it. Because of us.”

Dan kicks the covers off and sits up. “I honestly don’t care about them. I don’t care what they believe or think or say.”

“Why not?”

“Because what difference does it make? You know how stressed I get about shit like this. The world is just falling the fuck apart around us, and some bigots with bibles aren’t what I’m going to have sleepless nights about, okay? Russian spies being poisoned in Salisbury, that will keep me up at night. Cunts with signs saying ‘it’s Adam and Eve not Adam and Steve’ are a walk in the park compared to that shit.” He gets out of bed and leaves the room, completely naked, slamming the door behind him. 

Kyle lies awake staring at the ceiling for a long time before he gets up and follows him to where is he standing at the back door, smoking a joint and wrapped in the throw off the sofa.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly. There’s sirens blaring somewhere in the distance. 

“Me too,” says Kyle, and kisses the smoke from his mouth. 

***

“We need to pick a venue for the wedding,” Dan says, and Kyle groans loudly. “Fuck off, I take back my proposal.”

“No.”

“Nope, that’s it. We are officially un-engaged. Get out of my house.”

Kyle snorts and climbs into Dan’s lap, kissing him all over the face until he is laughing. “Sorry. But we have this conversation at least once a day and it always, always ends in an argument.”

“Yeah, because you always say you don’t care where we get married and you should. You should care.”

“I do care,” Kyle says, cupping Dan’s face in his hands lightly. “I do. But I want whatever you want.”

Dan smiles. “Okay,” he says, “well I want Vegas.”

Kyle smirks. “Anything but that.”

***

Kyle is late for sound check because he needed a tea that wasn’t PG tips which was all the venue had to offer, which meant running to the closest McDonalds which wasn’t really that close. 

There’s a crowd outside the front of the venue, which isn’t a surprise - some fans queue all day - but this crowd have signs on sticks held aloft. They’re not saying anything, but Kyle knows why they’re here. He just knows. 

His internal voice, which sounds a lot like Dan, tells him to go to the stage door and forget about it. But he can’t. He can’t do it. He walks up the line of fans toward the entrance to the venue and his heart plummets. 

‘Same sex parents doom kids’ their signs say. ‘Same sex marriage dooms nations.’ 

“No tears for queers?” Kyle asks one of them, looking up at their signs. “That sounds like a shit band name.”

Recognition dawns on the man’s face. “Gay marriage is a sin,” he says, “and you’re a terrible influence on these children.”

Kyle laughs. “They’re not children,” he says, looking back at the fans, most of whom are filming him now. “And even if they were, they can make up their own mind about whether or not we’re sinners.”

“Faggots go to hell,” says a girl from the middle of the crowd. She looks like she’s about Kyle’s age, and he just does not get it. 

“Yeah, well. I’d rather go to hell with all the faggots than to heaven with a single one of you arseholes,” he says, before turning his back on them and heading to the stage door. 

***

It’s in the paper the next day, and Dick isn’t amused. 

“What?” Kyle asks. They’ve been called into a meeting and they’re all sitting around a battered table in the production office. 

“How can you not understand that saying you want to go ‘to hell with all the fags’ isn’t great press?”

Woody snorts and Dick shoots him a look. “Mate. Yeah okay it wasn’t...like, it doesn’t look great. But it also shows that we’re not going to stand for shit like that at our gigs. This goes beyond Dan and Kyle, this matters to our fans as well.”

Will bites his finger nails and nods. “Could’ve been worse,” he says, wiping his hand on his jeans. “Could’ve been me, and I’d have fucking lamped them all.”

Kyle laughs and glances at Dan who has a face like thunder. Later, he finds him outside watching the sunset and slides a hand around his waist. “You okay, babe?”

Dan glares and steps out of Kyle’s arms. “I told you to just leave this church thing alone.”

“Yeah, and that was fine until they picketed our gig. I know you’re private, but the fans know about us. They know we’re getting married. The fact that we hate homophobes isn’t news to anyone. If anything, this is good.”

“Hmm.”

“I’m sorry,” Kyle sighs. “I want to say I’d not have done it if I’d known it would bother you so much but I can’t. Because I still would have done it.”

Dan smiles. “I know,” he says, reaching out the lace their hands together. “And that’s why I love you.”

***

The next time they get a flyer through the door it’s for the mega church’s conference at Wembley. Fucking Wembley. 

“Fucking Wembley!” Kyle snaps, slamming the flyer down on the kitchen table where Dan is grinding his weed. 

“Cheers, mate,” Dan says, tearing bits off the flyer to use as roaches. He doesn’t look up as Kyle rants, pacing the kitchen angrily. To the joints he’s rolling he says, “The Spice Girls played Wembley. That annoys me more than this.”

“All those people. Do they know? What the church believes and stands for?”

Dan slides a finished joint and a battered plastic lighter across the table in Kyle’s direction. 

“Very funny,” Kyle says, but takes it and lights it anyway. 

“Can you get married at Wembley?” Dan asks, apropos of nothing. 

“Uh. What?” The weed is really strong, and this is a nicely rolled joint. Kyle wants to say as much, but the words leave his mouth as a giggle. 

***

Their appointment with the registrar rolls round and they still haven’t booked anywhere. Kyle points this out tentatively, because probably this is all his fault for being and indecisive little shit.

Dan smiles. “That’s okay, we’re getting married at Wembley.”

Kyle rolls his eyes. “No, seriously. We need to have somewhere before we go today.”

“I’m being serious,” Dan says. “We’re getting married at that stupid church thing.”

“Stupid church thing?”

“You know, that conference thing you’re so up in arms about. We’re going to get married there.”

“You...you clearly haven’t been listening to what I’ve been saying about them. Gay marriage? Not their thing. It’s Adam and Eve, remember?”

“One; yes I know that. Two; you’re not gay, you’ve done Adam and Eve, so. And C; we’re not going to tell them we’re getting married. We’re going to buy tickets for anyone who wants to go, we’re going to turn up with the registrar, and we’re going to get gay married.”

Kyle is torn between wanting to slap Dan and wanting to kiss him, so he goes for the latter and kisses him until they’re both breathless. “I love you,” he says. 

Dan laughs into the kiss. “Love you too.”

***

Tickets to the conference cost £135 each, and come with a gaudy festival wrist band with THERE IS MORE printed on them with a crucifix at the end. 

Dan helps Kyle secure his wrist band and straightens his tie for him with a smile. “Can’t believe we’re doing this.”

Kyle laughs and cups Dan’s chin, feeling giddy the way he did after their first kiss. “Me either. You ready?”

They meet the others in the car park, where the registrar and her assistant are waiting. “This is...” she looks around at the swarms of people, “unusual.”

“Yeah,” Kyle says, “suits us down to the ground.”

“Okay,” she says, still looking uncomfortable. “Shall we?”

It’s even worse inside. The place is packed, and Kyle looks at everyone he passes wondering which of them is hoping he goes to hell. They find a space at the back and Dan goes, “this’ll do.”

“Oh,” says the registrar. She takes a book from her assistant and clears her throat. “Good evening ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to Wembley Stadium for the wedding of Dan Smith and Kyle Simmons.”

Dan takes Kyle’s hand in his and Kyle feels anchored. He thinks of Jesus with the nails in his feet. 

“Marriage joins two people in the circle of its love. It is a commitment to life, the best that two people can find and bring out in each other.”

And that sound right. Dan brings out the best in Kyle. He doesn’t hold himself in a particularly good light, but he likes himself so much more when he’s with Dan. And he can’t imagine it being any other way. As the registrar reads, people stop and glance at them but nobody says anything. The gathering of their friends and family mostly shields them from view. If anything they look like any other church group gathered before the conference starts. 

The registrar turns to Kyle, smiling, and asks, “Will you take Dan to be your lawful wedded husband, to be loving, faithful and loyal to him for the rest of your married life together?”

Kyle can’t take his eyes off Dan, and finds it hard to speak around the lump in his throat. “I do,” he says, with as much conviction as he can muster. 

She repeats the question to Dan who laughs nervously, squeezing Kyle’s hand. “I do,” he says. 

“Before you are joined in matrimony it is my duty to remind you of the solemn and binding character of the vows you are about to make. Marriage in this country is the union of two people voluntarily entered into for life to the exclusion of all others.

“Today you will exchange vows which will unite you as husband and husband. The words are a formal and public pledge of your love, and a promise of life long dedication to each other. The purpose of marriage is that you may always love, care for and support one another through both the difficulties and the joys that life may bring, and that your love will foster a relationship of permanent and continuing commitment.”

Even over the din of the arena Kyle can hear his mum sobbing. This probably isn’t how she imagined his wedding, if she even imagined he’d ever find anyone to put up with him long enough to marry him, but she seems touched regardless. 

Kyle is so busy staring at Dan he almost forgets what he is asked to repeat, and he stumbles over his words which is standard at this point. Dan smiles, and Kyle wants to kiss him there and then. 

They exchange rings with shaking hands, plain titanium bands with the word ‘arsehole’ inscribed on the inside because one of the conditions of loving someone unconditionally is definitely having them call you an arsehole on a regular basis. 

“On behalf of Jason and myself,” the registrar says with a nod to her assistant, “I am happy to pronounce you husband and husband.”

Their friends and family cheer and clap and Kyle steps into Dan’s arms to kiss him gently. It feels intimate, despite being in Wembley fucking Stadium. The pair of them, along with Will and Woody, shuffle over to an empty row of chairs to sign the register. 

“Ever done anything like this before?” Will asks the registrar. 

She smiles politely and shakes her head. “No,” she says, “and I doubt I will again.” 

She hands Dan an envelope with their wedding certificates in which he pockets carefully and shakes her hand. “Thank you so much,” he says. 

“You’re welcome,” she says, but Kyle gets the impression she can’t wait to leave. Which is fair - neither can he. 

“We need to take our seats,” Dan says, frowning when Kyle laughs. “What?”

“You’re joking, right? We’re not staying.”

“Not joking. Let’s go.” He doesn’t turn back as he heads down the long aisle in the middle of the pitch. 

Everyone follows him like he’s the fucking pied piper, and Kyle just watches stunned until the house lights go down and the crowd hushes in excitement. Uplifting praise music plays and the screen on the stage lights up with the word Jesus just as Kyle runs after Dan and the others. 

Everyone filters into their seats save for Dan who keeps walking toward the stage, ignoring Kyle yelling after him. 

“Fuck’s sake, Simmons,” Woody says, tugging at his arm. “Sit your arse down.”

“Where’s he going?”

“You’ll see,” Woody says, cryptically, not letting go of Kyle’s wrist until he sits down. 

The plastic chair is uncomfortable and Kyle shifts restlessly as the crowd cheer for a figure stepping onto the stage. 

“Welcome, one and all,” says the man in an unplaceable American accent. The screen behind him says ‘Brain Whitaker, Senior Global Pastor’. “Have you ever felt like you were living with a question mark over your life? Have you ever pondered the potential within or the promises of God within the framework of calling and purpose? Have you ever asked ‘Is there more’?” 

He pauses for dramatic affect before turning to the wings. “I’d like to welcome someone to the stage who has something to say on his own experience of wondering if there’s more. Give a warm welcome to Dan Smith.”

The room erupts in applause and the screen changes to say ‘Dan Smith, Musician’ and there he is, parading out onto the huge stage with a shy wave. Kyle feels sick. “What the actual fuck,” he says. 

Dan takes the microphone and smiles, his face beaming on the huge screens. “Hello,” he says. “Um. Some of you may know me, some of you may not. I’m here to just...talk about my own life, I guess.” He clears his throat. “I’ve had that feeling, felt that question mark. I felt...really small and alone and it was awful. And then I found him, and it all changed. My life got better, massively better. And I hope you all find that, too.

“My band mate Kyle recently had a run in with some church members at one of our gigs and I’d like to say something about that.” Dan pauses, centres himself. “You all just attended mine and Kyle’s gay wedding,” he says. “Surprise.”

The room is silent, like they’re waiting for the punchline. But there isn’t one, and Kyle’s heart is racing as he gets to his feet to applaud. The rest of them do, too, and they don’t stop when security rush to the stage to hurry Dan off. Kyle can see men in high vis jackets closing in on the group. “Time to go,” he says to Woody, before sliding out of the row and hurrying up the aisle. They run, the lot of them, laughing all the way. 

When they get outside Dan is there, being pushed away from the car park by security. Kyle’s mum goes to him first and hugs him tight, saying “I’m so proud of you,” and, “look after him.”

Kyle goes to him next and kisses him right there. “I love you,” he says, “you fucking arsehole.”

Dan laughs. “Love you too.”

“Now what?” Kyle asks, taking his hand. 

Dan shrugs. “Pub?”

Fin


End file.
